


Butterflies

by StarTravel



Series: Defiance Through Tenderness [5]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Avoiding Big Conversations Through Cuddling, Light Domesticity, Sharing a Bed, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Julian and Garak steal a few quiet hours together on the Defiant.





	Butterflies

Julian doesn’t remember how they ended up in this position, Garak’s right arm wrapped around his chest and pushing him down into the mattress with the most delightful pressure. There are blankets spread lazily on top of them while they read off the same padd as well, all of it disgustingly domestic. Well, actually he does remember, Garak having been lying on the bed wrapped in a pile of sheets and making scoffing sounds. Julian, annoyed and borderline offended, marched over to his side and started whining about how _Much Ado Nothing_ is one Shakespeare’s best works.

 Garak merely grinned and agreed, shocking Julian too much to object when Garak pulls him onto their bed. It’s more comfortable than the stolen chair anyway, and it’s a few hours before Tirani will let Julian force his way into the infirmary for his next shift. Julian has always been good at making his own truths. “Isn’t this the part where you start telling me all the different ways you find Shakespeare ridiculous?”

 “You told me this was a comedy, my dear, I assumed it was supposed to be ridiculous.” Garak murmurs into his ear as he holds Julian firm against his chest, cool grey lips pressed against the side of his jaw. Julian rolls his shoulders against Garak’s body and tries to squash the butterflies building in his stomach. For all he knows, this is perfectly acceptable behavior between acquaintances on Cardassia. God knows they keep all of that knowledge as hidden as everything else.

 “You remind me of Benedick.” Julian murmurs as he glances down at the padd, his favorite argument coming to life in his mind’s eyes as he scans over the page. Julian wishes he could forget things more easily sometimes, could be shocked and delighted anew by the novels and plays he adores. But then he wouldn’t be able to debate them so readily with Garak and his eidetic Cardassian memory, and Julian thinks he’d miss that more than he’d enjoy the experience of surprise.

 Garak scans the same lines over his shoulder, chin resting on his clavicle. Julian doesn’t have to look back to know he’s smirking, eye ridges slightly raised as his words come out teasing. “Casting yourself as the noble Beatrice then?”

 “She is putting her family and friendship before the state.” Julian makes a tutting sound with his tongue, purposefully ignoring the sharp sound of disbelief that Garak makes in the back of his throat. Julian presses back against Garak’s chest, humming lightly at the feel of the weight pressing down on his back as Garak shifts forward. Julian’s voice comes out lazy and sweet in a way it hasn’t been in over a year. “Are you saying that I’d be Benedick?”

 “I’m saying that when we first met, you would have been Claudio, maybe Hero on your best day.” Garak murmurs as he taps a long nail onto the edge of the padd. Julian lets out a small laugh, twisting around as much as he can in the space between Garak’s arm and his chest, so his face ends up pressed up into the thick velvet of his sleeve.

 “Gods, you do so love tearing down my self-esteem, Elim.” Julian tells him with a purposefully melodramatic sigh, nuzzling his face as much as he can into the soft material beneath his skin. Luxuries like these grow rarer by the day and Julian will take what pleasure he can get while it yet exists for him. He’s always been more selfish than he wanted to be.

 “Only so I can build it back up again, Julian.” Garak’s words are like a honeyed promise as he leans in so his hair brushes against Julian’s forehead. Julian sighs at the contrast between the thick velvet on his right cheek and more silk-like texture of Garak’s hair brushing against his left. He thinks he could stay here forever, still and quiet, words washing over him without meaning. But then Garak speaks again and Julian finds he likes that just as much. “Besides, it would take centuries to begin to chip at your ego, my dear.”

 “There you go again.” Julian makes a mock wounded sounded deep in the back of his throat, curling around Garak’s arm and letting the padd fall to the side. It’s not as though Garak’s even giving the text a bit of notice anymore, apparently far too taken up with teasing him for that. Julian shifts a bit more against Garak’s arm. “So who do you think I’d be now? More fully Hero? Don Pedro?”

 “Dogberry.” Garak’s voice is clipped and serious, far too serious for the moment. Julian laughs, bright and just a little too loud, though it’s thankfully muffled against Garak’s sleeve. Then, driven by instincts Julian’s positive he should ignore, Julian twists around and pulls himself down so his eyelashes are in line with Garak’s cheeks. Julian flutters them quickly, breath coming out in little puffs. “What are you doing?”

 A few days ago, Julian would’ve denied that he was doing anything or scrambled to his feet, flushed with embarrassment or well - something besides nuzzling his chin against the ridges along Garak’s jaw. But that was then, and now Julian’s accepted whatever this is for what it is in the moment. He finds definition doesn’t matter so much in a war. “Hmm?”

 “You’re rubbing your eyelashes over my cheeks.” Garak’s voice is soft and amused and he makes no move to let Julian go. But he also makes no move pull him closer or to brush his own eyelashes over Julian’s cheeks, and it strikes him this might not even be a _thing_ in Cardassian culture.

 “Do you not like it?” Julian asks softly as he considers the other numerous possible implications of what Garak just said. It could be that fluttering the eyelashes is considered rude or offensive on Cardassia; a sign of weakness; or maybe even a seduction technique and Garak’s gently trying to let Julian down. All of those are possible and the last one would be truly humiliating.

 “No, it’s just a new sensation.” Garak whispers into his ear as he suddenly tightens his grip along Julian’s waist, as though reading his insecurities through the way his eyelashes slowed to a sudden halt. Julian lets Garak rearrange them so he’s half on top of Julian, chest and mountain of blankets holding his body delightfully still. “Not a bad one.”

 Julian lets out a sound that is suspiciously like a giggle against Garak’s mouth, their warm breath intermingling in the cool air of the Defiant. Julian starts fluttering his eyelashes again, this time in a more hurried pace than before, as though he’s planting hundreds of miniature kisses along Garak’s cheeks.

  All of them are chaste and simple and make something Julian’s not sure he’s ever felt before build in his chest. “On earth we call them butterfly kisses.”

 “Are they often shared between roommates?” Garak asks with just enough mirth in his voice for Julian to understand that he already knows the answer. Julian swallows a little, eyelashes slowing as he curls a bit closer to Garak. This - he could use this as an opportunity, a moment to ask what they are and what they will - or at least could - be to each other. But that might ruin everything, again, and Julian’s not ready for that. Not yet.

 “Oh yes, in fact, most roommates share all types of kisses, you know.” Julian whispers against Garak’s jaw, tone light and drawling instead as he lets out a hopeful sigh. He’s rewarded with a kiss to the forehead, soft and sweet and full of promises neither of them have any right making.

 It’s enough for now.  


End file.
